


hexes and hydrangeas

by nezumiprefersdanielleovershakespeare



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 00:52:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11116479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezumiprefersdanielleovershakespeare/pseuds/nezumiprefersdanielleovershakespeare
Summary: A Harry Potter crossover! Professor Longbottom is absent from his usual Herbology post, and the substitute teacher happens to be a seventh year student - specifically, a Ravenclaw that Nezumi, as a Slytherin who mostly kept to himself, had only noticed before from a distance.Preview:“I don’t know why I didn’t expect that,” Shion mumbled, his eyes closed as he ran a hand through his white hair.“I would have expected worse,” Nezumi replied.Shion’s eyes snapped open, his gasp audible. “I – I didn’t know you were there.”Nezumi stepped away from the greenhouse wall, cocking an eyebrow and glancing at the plants in the corner before looking back at the Ravenclaw. “Did you want me to step out so you could converse privately with the hydrangeas?”Shion’s mouth lingered open while Nezumi examined him. He was gangly, and his eyes and hair color were distinctly abnormal, but there was something about his full lips that seemed irresistibly kissable.Nezumi smirked. He’d never thought himself the type to have a crush on his professor.





	hexes and hydrangeas

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote and posted this fic in October, 2013. 
> 
> I'm reposting some of my old fics from the many accounts I previously deleted over the past few years, so if you're familiar with my fics and want to request that I repost a certain old fave, feel free to message me at my tumblr: http://coolasamackerel.tumblr.com or comment on this post: http://coolasamackerel.tumblr.com/post/160488980276/danielles-nezushifree-fics and I'll be happy to consider reposting it! For both my new readers and my old guys, hope you enjoy the fic!! :D

The dungeons held the unseasonal chill against their concrete walls like a coating of paint, and Nezumi pulled his cloak closer to him. His pale hands grew even paler, displaying blue veins spiderwebbing across their backs.

            He leaned against the dungeon wall, twirling his wand between his fingers. He sighed, and his breath formed an icy cloud before his paling lips. A quick glimpse around the common room revealed two other Slytherins occupying the chairs by the thin fire, facing away from him. Nezumi caught his wand still and whispered a few choice words, holding open his other palm on which a blue flame silently erupted, resting warmly on his skin. The spell was Nezumi’s own modification of the portable fire he’d read up on in his first year; after his initial refusal to ever manufacture fire for his Charms classes, Nezumi had perfected a flame that his skin and clothing were impervious to. It was all of the warmth and none of the burn.

            Nezumi pulled his palm against his chest and tipped his head back against the dungeon wall, closing his eyes. He was skipping History of Magic, which he doubted had improved for his last year at Hogwarts, after six years where the class had served as nothing better than a crowded place to take a nap. This year, his schedule revealed that the Slytherins had double History of Magic with Ravenclaw’s seventh years, only another reason not to show. Nezumi had never talked to any of the members of this House and was eager to keep it that way.

            Like the other Slytherins, Nezumi came from a long line of old wizarding blood, but unlike his Housemates, he felt no superiority over the other Houses. He didn’t feel anything towards them except the reluctance to speak to them, but Nezumi felt this towards the students in his own House as well – he never had been able to explain it, but there was a disconnect between him and his schoolmates, though it had never bothered him.

            By the time Nezumi began to feel warm again, there was a bustling outside the common room. Nezumi opened his eyes to witness the return of the other seventh years.

            “Those Ravenclaws are such know-it-alls. Who even gives a shit about the Goblin Inequality Act?”

            “I think it was the _Equality_ Act.”

            “That’s what I said.”

            “You said Inequality.”

            “What’s your point?”

            Nezumi curled his hand around the fire, snuffing it in his fist as he stood up. He brushed his bangs from his eyes and slipped his wand in the waistband of his jeans, yawning.

            “Nezumi? Yo, Nez, you skipped class, man?”

            Nezumi ignored his schoolmate and left the common room. Despite the cold, he liked the dungeons. Because of the frigid temperatures, the surrounding corridors were rarely occupied with many students, and the empty stone passageways welcomed Nezumi’s silent steps. Other than the intervals during which students made their ways to-and-from their Potions classes at the other end of the dungeons, Nezumi was left in solitude to tweak the latest spells he’d read about, or concoct new potions in his head that he would later attempt in his own Potions classes.

            His next class was Herbology, and rumor was that Professor Longbottom was taking the first semester off from teaching to spend time with his dangerously premature newborn. Nezumi walked to greenhouse four ten minutes later with hands burrowing into his cloak pockets. It wasn’t yet autumn, but he felt winter’s kiss nip his bare skin anyway. He tucked his chin into his scarf and squinted at the deceiving sun with narrowed eyes.

            The rest of his year was already huddled inside greenhouse four, voices and laughter pushing against each other without mind to the last student sneaking around to the far corner of the greenhouse. Nezumi pulled his wand from the back of his waistband and began twirling it in his fingers absently, debating the temptation to conjure another of his benign flames to tuck under the collar of his shirt. He glanced around for the new professor, but the greenhouse was filled with no one but Nezumi’s schoolmates and a few angry looking hydrangea bushes that were crossing their branches sulkily in the opposite corner.

            Nezumi stilled his wand, taking a breath to murmur the spell as the greenhouse door opened again.

            “What are you doing here?”

            Nezumi slipped his wand in his waistband again, inspecting the newcomer.

            He had seen him before. The guy was easily recognizable, with snow-white hair and red eyes. He was a seventh year as well, from Ravenclaw’s House – Nezumi could recall seeing him at the neighboring table in the Great Hall.

            Another student groaned. “What, have we got Double Herbology with the nerds as well?”

            The Ravenclaw cleared his throat. “Actually, I’m not a student in this class.”

            “Then get out!”

            Nezumi crossed his arms and leaned against the wall of the greenhouse, watching his jeering Housemates and the unfazed reaction of the outcast.

            “Yeah, what do you think you’re doing here?”

            The Ravenclaw lifted his shoulders slightly. “I’ll be your teacher until Professor Longbottom returns.”

            The greenhouse thronged with objections, laughs, and multiplied jeers. Nezumi watched silently – both his simmering classmates and the Ravenclaw, who, after a minute of fruitless attempts to speak, pointed his wand at his throat and mouthed something.

            _“Sonorous.”_

            Though he couldn’t hear it, Nezumi knew this was the spell the Ravenclaw had cast on himself, as a second later his voice could be heard clearly above the Slytherins’.

            “I will be your professor for the next few weeks of classes. If anyone has an objection, feel free to take it up with Headmistress McGonagall. Otherwise, settle down. I don’t expect any of you to address me as Professor – I’m in your year, and have no intention to demean any of you. Call me Shion.”

            “Fuck off, _Shion_!”

            Shion glanced at the offender, his expression softening. “I understand the awkwardness of the situation. I was hesitant to accept, when Headmistress McGonagall approached me with the unique request to teach my own classmates. No other substitute could be found on such late notice, and our Headmistress was aware that I had done extensive research in this field. If you’ll let me, I am confident at my competence to carry you through your first few weeks of Seventh Year Herbology until Professor Longbottom can – ”

            “This is bullshit!” another student yelled.

            “I’m out of here.”

            “Just a second, wait – ”

            Nezumi’s observed with raised eyebrows as his classmates thronged the exit of the greenhouse, ignoring Shion’s elevated protests until even Shion gave up, pointing his wand at his throat a second time and murmuring a defeated, _“Quietus.”_

            Less than a minute left the greenhouse empty but for Shion, Nezumi, and the increasingly crotchety hydrangeas.

            Shion had been watching the Slytherins leave, and turned back with leaden shoulders and a palm rubbing down his face.

            Nezumi tugged on his tie and twirled his wand between his fingers, watching Shion carefully.

            “I don’t know why I didn’t expect that,” Shion mumbled, his eyes closed as he ran a hand through his white hair.

            “I would have expected worse,” Nezumi replied.

            Shion’s eyes snapped open, his gasp audible. “I – I didn’t know you were there.”

            Nezumi stepped away from the greenhouse wall, cocking an eyebrow and glancing at the plants in the corner before looking back at the Ravenclaw. “Did you want me to step out so you could converse privately with the hydrangeas?”

            Shion’s mouth lingered open while Nezumi examined him. He was gangly, and his eyes and hair color were distinctly abnormal, but there was something about his full lips that seemed irresistibly kissable.

            Nezumi smirked. He’d never thought himself the type to have a crush on his professor.

            “Why are you still here?”

            “My schedule says I have Herbology right now, and I thought it unwise to skip two classes the first day of the semester.”

            A light crease wedged between Shion’s eyebrows. “You skipped History of Magic.”

            “Did I miss anything? Did a Hufflepuff replace Binns?” Nezumi asked, his smirk stretching.

            Shion’s red eyes slid to the floor. “This was a mistake.”

            “Obviously,” Nezumi agreed.

            The red eyes sprung back up, the crease deepened. “What was Headmistress McGonagall thinking?”

            “She probably had a mind that you wouldn’t give up so quickly. Don’t know how you fooled such a smart witch into thinking you had it in you. Guess old age is finally hitting her,” Nezumi said, shrugging.

            Shion blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m not giving up. My class just left.”

            “You let them.”

            “What did you expect me to do? _Locomotor Mortis_ the lot of them?”

            “Hexing your students doesn’t seem the most recommendable way to establish credibility on your first class, but hey, if you think that kind of teaching method will do the trick – ”

            “I was being sarcastic! Of course I would never curse a student. Which is why my only other choice was to watch my entire class walk out,” Shion said sullenly.

            “ _Entire_ class?” Nezumi challenged, folding his hands across his chest.

            Shion stared before his cheeks flooded with color. “Oh, I’m so sorry, other than you, of course, I didn’t mean – ”

            “Stop stammering, how am I supposed to respect you as my professor if you sound like a fool? Hurry up and teach me something about plants, will you? I need some justification for walking out here in the cold.”

            Shion gaped, then nodded, rolling his shoulders and walking over to the hydrangeas. “Right, okay. And – Thanks, Nezumi.”

            “Look at that, you already know my name. Someone came prepared.”

            Shion narrowed his eyes, his confusion apparent in the cock of his head. “Of course I know your name. We’ve been in the same year for seven years.”

            “Continuously pointing out that you’re my classmate is not helping the professor status,” Nezumi complained, though in truth he was surprised. He hadn’t known Shion’s name before that day.

            Nezumi was somewhat flattered; the cute professor had already known him.

            “You’re right,” Shion said, shaking his head. “Okay, today we’ll be working with these guys. They’re a rare hydrangea hybrid that can be deadly if not pruned every Friday that falls on the thirteenth of the month. Today, we’re simply repotting, a harmless but difficult task. As you can see, they’re a bit grumpy about the cold weather, and in no mood to go anywhere.”

            The rest of class was brutal, as two people wrestling with a hybrid hydrangea was an audacious task. Nezumi happened to kill one by accidentally hacking it with an ax, but Shion helped him bury the branches behind the greenhouse and promised his secrecy.

            “Just try not to ax the others,” Shion requested, dirt coating his arms up to his elbows.

            Nezumi was in a similar situation, although his sleeve of dirt spread to his shoulders. “Yeah, no promises,” he grumbled, dodging the swipe of a hydrangea branch. “Why can’t we kill them all and be done with it?”

            “Their sap is valuable in love potions. Rarer than the sap of rose bushes, hybrid hydrangea sap is actually what adds the sexual desire. It’s the ingredient for lust.”

            “I’m seriously being beaten up by a plant so that some asshole can trick a poor idiot into unwillingly lusting after him?”

            “The leaves are also irreplaceable ingredients in Veritaserum.”

            “So basically the damn plant serves for the making of two potions that are morally questionable?”

            Shion offered a smile that Nezumi barely caught through flailing branches. “You could say that. It’s a favor for the Headmistress. I believe she sends the sap and leaves to the Weasley brothers at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, that joke shop in Hogsmeade, you know?”

            “Never been,” Nezumi replied dryly.

            “You’ve never been to Hogsmeade?”

            “Nah.”

            “Why not?”

            Nezumi pretended to be distracted by the hybrid hydrangea at hand, which wasn’t a difficult act, as a branch had just stuffed itself into his ear. As he and Shion struggled to pull it out, securing several more splinters that dug determinately through their dragonhide gloves, Nezumi decided against telling Shion that he did not have anyone to sign his permission form for Hogsmeade.

            The new Herbology professor was intriguing, but that wasn’t enough to tempt Nezumi to spill his tragic life story.

*

The next History of Magic class found Nezumi sliding into the seat beside Shion.

            Since the fall of Voldemort, House rivalries had greatly diminished in intensity, but Nezumi’s year of Slytherins were among the more conservative type, and Shion’s attempt to claim himself as their substitute Herbology professor only enlarged the offense of a Slytherin sitting not only on Ravenclaw’s side of the classroom, but beside their particular star offender.

            “Hey, Nezumi, you lost? Your ass is in the wrong seat!”

            Nezumi pushed his bangs from his eyes and shoved Shion’s books to the side to make room for his own.

            “Your friends are calling you,” Shion murmured to him, his voice hushed for reasons Nezumi couldn’t fathom.

            He raised his eyebrows at the wide red eyes, which appeared rather confused to find Nezumi in such a short range before them.

            “Do you have a problem with me sitting here?” Nezumi asked, pausing in fishing out the parchment he had no inclination to take notes on.

            Shion swallowed, and Nezumi watched his throat jump with a strange hunger. “Me? No, but your friends – ”

            “If they were my friends, I’d be sitting next to them.”

            “Hey, traitor, what are you playing at?”

            Shion’s eyes slid from the Slytherin side of the class back to Nezumi, narrowed in concern. “Does that mean – Are we friends?”

            Nezumi smirked, enjoying the pink spread sneaking up Shion’s neck. “Sure, Professor. If you’re going to beg.”

            “I didn’t – ”

            “Simmer down, students, history awaits,” Professor Binns droned, his voice weighing down the air of the classroom like thick syrup a second before he himself appeared through the chalkboard. “From where we left off, in year 1562…”

            Nezumi scratched out different incantations he planned on trying out for a new spell he was working on, every so often glancing over at Shion, who seemed to be the only student paying attention and recording notes on Binns’ lecture. After the first ten minutes, Nezumi mostly forgot about his spell, and sat with his chin propped in the cup of his palm, watching Shion.

            Shion looked over after a few minutes, his cheeks blossoming pink and his quill slipping in his fingers, blotching ink on his notes. Wide red eyes darted quickly away, and Nezumi smirked, watching Shion’s blush deepen as he stared at his parchment, then slowly fade into a resilient pink that remained for the rest of the lecture.

            It seemed History of Magic _had_ improved for Nezumi’s last year at Hogwarts.

*

_“Engorgio.”_ Nezumi watched the mouse grow from the size of a tack back to normal, then scratched out the unsuccessful curse on his parchment.

              “Will you give it a rest for now?” Shion’s complaint weaved out of the books stacked around his head.

            “Why did that curse have the same effect as _Reducto?_ That doesn’t make sense,” Nezumi muttered, tucking his wand behind his ear and scrutinizing his parchment while the mouse nibbled on the cheese Nezumi put out.

            “Why are you trying to make a spell that eliminates the mouse’s innate desire for cheese? How will that ever be useful?” A tuft of white hair, a forehead, and two curious and exasperated red eyes emerged above the piles of books.

            Nezumi glanced at them. “Animals have basic wants. Food, shelter, procreation, survival. To eradicate the obsession for these desires in domesticated mice could create endless possibilities for their use.”

            Shion sighed, allowed himself to be swallowed back up by the stacks of books. “Whatever you say, Nezumi.”

            Nezumi replaced the mouse in its cage and lay on his back. Stacks of books were pushed aside, and Nezumi contented himself to scrutinize Shion’s furrowed brow and narrowed eyes, dissecting the textbook in front of him.

            The red eyes glanced up and met Nezumi’s gaze, softening around the edges. “I can’t work when you watch me.”

            “What are you doing?”

            “Planning my next lesson.”

            Shion had been the Herbology professor for a month. At his second class with Nezumi’s House, none of the Slytherins left, thanks to a stern announcement by Headmistress McGonagall in the Great Hall at dinner the night before.

            “Take a break.”

            “I can’t. Thanks to the frost, I need a new lesson plan for tomorrow. It’s barely October, I can’t believe this weather.” Shion pulled his cloak closer around his shoulders.

            Nezumi flicked his wand from behind his ear and conjured his fire, cupping it in his hands and sitting up. His free hand pushed more stacks of books aside, making room for himself beside Shion, against whom he leaned.

            “It’s against the rules to conjure fire indoors.”

            “Are you going to report me, Professor?” Nezumi asked, placing the fire on Shion’s knee.

            Shion reached out, a tentative finger prodding the flame. “No,” he said, with a small smile. “This is really impressive magic, you know.”

            “Why, thank you, Professor.”

            “Don’t call me that,” Shion mumbled, biting his lip.

            Nezumi pulled at his tie, slipping it off his neck and tossing it on Shion’s open textbook. “You know it turns you on.”

            “Nezumi, shh,” Shion murmured, red eyes glancing around them.

            “We’re alone,” Nezumi said, tucking his whisper against Shion’s collarbone.

            Shion squirmed while Nezumi reached out to pull on his tie. His hands pulled on Nezumi’s fingers. “I have work to do.”

            “Your hands are cold. Let me warm you up.”

            “Your fire is doing the job rather well.”

            Nezumi reached down to Shion’s knee and snuffed the fire out. “Fire indoors is against the rules. You know that, Professor.”

            “Nezumi,” Shion protested, and Nezumi let the man push him away. “Not now.”

            Nezumi sighed, stood up. “Fine, fine. I’m going to get tea – you want some?”

            “Sure, thank you.”

            Nezumi glanced once at Shion, then let himself out of Ravenclaw’s common room. With an advanced Confunding charm he’d tweaked, he’d bewitched the door into providing Ravenclaws with an alternative destination instead of the usual riddle it spewed, while only for him and Shion did it function normally. This particular curse had taken him two weeks to master, and it was Nezumi’s most useful. Other than the occasional expression of confusion as to why his common room was suddenly consistently empty, Shion didn’t suspect a thing.

            Nezumi made his way to the kitchens, tickled the pear, and secured two mugs of tea. He slipped the contents of a vial from his pocket into one of the mugs, then made his way back to the Ravenclaw Tower, waiting for two Ravenclaws to be gently persuaded by the door to visit the Owlery before approaching the door himself and easily answering _“Silence”_ to the door’s request.

            “What was your riddle?” Shion asked, as Nezumi sat cross-legged before him, handing him his mug.

            Shion always asked. He had an obsession.

            “It was a _Who am I_. The clue was, _Say my name, and I am gone_.”

            Shion mulled and sipped his tea. The mug cupped in Nezumi’s own palms injected pleasant warmth through his skin and up his arms.

            “That’s a tricky one.”

            “Is it?” Nezumi asked, watching Shion take another sip of tea.

            “What did you reply – Why are you looking at me like that?”

            “Like what?”

            Shion narrowed his eyes, took another sip of tea.

            Nezumi rested his palms behind him and leaned back. He waited.

            Less than five minutes had Shion’s fingers drumming his textbook. He looked up at Nezumi, frowning. “I told you not to watch me. It’s distracting.”

            “Forget I’m here.”

            Shion’s pupils were dilated. He was biting his lip. His fingers kept drumming.

            “What’s wrong, Professor? You seem…distracted,” Nezumi murmured, leaning forward.

            Shion’s lips slipped open. He swallowed. His eyes had clouded the slightest bit. “Nezumi…” he whispered.

            Nezumi clenched his teeth to fight back his smirk. “Hmm?”

            “I want…I want…”

            “Yes?” Nezumi asked, leaning close enough to feel Shion’s breath, quick and hot, on his lips. He couldn’t help himself – he grinned.

            Shion took a shuddering breath. His fingers quivered, and he almost knocked over his mug. He glanced down, freezing, and Nezumi held his breath.

            “Wait a second, did you – ?”

            “Did I what?” Nezumi whispered.

            Shion stared at him, his eyes wide. “The sap! You – ”

            Nezumi lifted his hand, caught Shion’s bottom lip under his thumb. “Are you mad, Professor?”

            Shion nodded as Nezumi slid his thumb along the boy’s lip.

            “How mad?” Nezumi asked quietly.

            Shion’s eyelids fluttered as he blinked. Nezumi slipped his thumb between Shion’s lips.

            “Don’t you have work to do?” he teased, and Shion whimpered.

            “Nezumi, you asshole,” he whispered. “How much did you slip in my tea?”

            Nezumi unhooked his thumb from Shion’s mouth and leaned forward on his knees, pressing his lips against Shion’s ear. “Teach me a lesson, Professor.”

            Nezumi’s neck burned with Shion’s lips, dragged roughly against his skin. Teeth caught on his collarbone.

            “You drugged me,” Shion muttered into Nezumi’s skin as he unbuttoned Nezumi’s shirt.

            Nezumi pushed his slipping fingers aside, shedding his shirt quickly and chasing it with Shion’s.

            Shion’s fingers made desperate claws on Nezumi’s skin, and Nezumi’s back met the floor, his professor straddling him, ducking down, kissing him roughly with teeth that pulled on Nezumi’s lips.

            “How much sap did you put in there?” Shion moaned, grinding his crotch over Nezumi’s.

            Nezumi stared up at him, slightly overwhelmed by Shion’s almost pained expression. “Just a vial – ”

            Shion groaned. “I want you so bad it _hurts_ ,” he whined, pushing harder into Nezumi. “You had to fucking dilute it more, you _complete asshole._ ”

            Nezumi grinned sheepishly at the narrowed red eyes, wincing at Shion’s desperate hand in his hair. The man’s other hand was slipping between their bodies, unbuttoning Nezumi’s jeans.

            “Is it wrong to say it was – _ha, ahh ah_ – it was worth it?” Nezumi breathed, closing his eyes and arching his back as Shion dipped his hand under his boxers.

            Shion’s lips were in Nezumi’s ear. “After this, I will _Avada Kedavra_ you _.”_

            Nezumi couldn’t reply, as the lips in his ear had dragged themselves to his own mouth. What Shion proceeded to do to Nezumi on the floor of the Ravenclaw common room may not have been magic, but it sure as hell left Nezumi completely and utterly spellbound.

 

THE END


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